NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND
Recently landed: Notes from the Underground
Gracia’s written response to Emma Riches’s never are, and Amorphophallus blooming and Victoria amazonica blooming by Ingela Ihrman, especially for Fjord Review.
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Beneath my feet, thousands upon thousands of tiny threads in the soil transmit messages and nutrients, actions and behaviours. Symbiotic mycorrhizal networks pulsate in a system of life I cannot see, but, more and more, have a growing sense of: a realm of fungi that supports and sustains near to all living systems. Out of sight though this may be, beneath my feet, in the gallery at the Potter Museum of Art, and later at Dancehouse, the map of mycorrhizal networks bustles in a complexity that never sleeps, a thriving cosmopolis under the city and her cultural landmarks. Entering the darkened humidity of the Upstairs Studio space at Dancehouse, for Emma Riches’s closing night performance of her work never are, I might be physically further from the earth, but there is a strong sense of actually being beneath the surface, of being in the soil itself. Somehow, since making my way up the stairs, I’ve crossed a threshold and I am now in a fertile compost heap, and the sound, thanks to Rachel Lewindon, pings to affirm that this is so. Is this what it sounds like as nutrients are traded in symbiotic partnerships?
As Riches walks backwards in measured steps, mapping a large mirrored rectangular surface in the centre of the space, there is a sense that she is in fact a tendril transmitting real-time messages through the soil. As the audience takes their seats along two opposing sides of the rectangle, Riches continues to walk backwards, in considered meditation. Before she passes along one of the sides, flanked by seating, people who previously had their legs crossed, and a foot extended near to the performance area, alter their positions to give her space to continue her transmission. The collective gentle encroachment of the audience, one by one, we tuck our feet in, and Riches continues along her path. In a costume designed by Sandra Riches, the texture of an iridescent pearl, she glides past in socked feet, and it occurs to me that perhaps she is not walking backwards at all. If a performing body can become a manifestation of a mycorrhizal network, who is to say that Riches is walking backwards at all?
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27th of February, 2026
Amorphophallus blooming and Victoria amazonica blooming by Ingela Ihrman at A velvet ant, a flower and a bird, curated by Professor Dr Chus Martínez (image credit: Astrid Mulder, courtesy of the Potter Museum of Art)
